


Who says a Trashmouth can't keep a lid on it?

by Kalina_E



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: 5+1 Things, Angst, Benverly is only background, Cuddling, Fluff, Happy Ending, M/M, Making Out, Secret Relationship, She's not in it much, Sonia Kaspbrak's A+ Parenting, They're all like 17/18, but only a little angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-12
Updated: 2019-11-12
Packaged: 2021-02-01 06:14:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21412897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kalina_E/pseuds/Kalina_E
Summary: Five times Richie and Eddie almost gave it away (and one time they did)
Relationships: Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 12
Kudos: 504





	Who says a Trashmouth can't keep a lid on it?

**Author's Note:**

> In this the Losers are 17/18 and it's their last year of high school.

Richie was in class and he was _bored_. The teacher was droning on at the front, something about distributions, all shit he already knew. It didn't even make it better that he shared this class with both Bill and Eddie because Mr Price was such a tight-ass that one whisper would get him sent out the door.

And he really couldn't afford another trip to the principle's office.

So instead, Richie amused himself by clicking his pen.

_Click. Click. Click, click. Click._

He glanced at the clock, exhaling in frustration at the slow ticking of the second hand.

_Click, click, click._

He looked to his right and realised with a jolt that Bill was writing and that, on the other side of Bill, Eddie was also writing. He quickly span his pen so that it was facing his paper.

_Click._

He started writing, copying the example off the board despite the fact that he was _certain_ he had done this exact lesson last year.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Bill slide a scrap of folded paper onto his desk. He grabbed it, unfolding it and quickly scanning it.

_what did you get for Q3???_

Richie looked at Bill but he just jerked his head towards Eddie, who checked the teacher wasn't watching before grasping his hands together in a pleading motion.

Grinning, Richie ripped out the corner of his page, scribbling the workings and the answer on one side and a message on the other, folding the note with the maths on the outside.

_y didnt u ask bill :p_

Slipping the note to Bill to pass on, he didn't look but could practically feel Eddie rolling his eyes.

It didn't take long for Eddie to send a reply. Richie gave Bill a grateful smile as he was passed the paper. Bill was always good for not reading other people's notes.

_maybe I just wanted to talk to you_

Tearing off more paper, Richie replied, feeling a little guilty for talking through Bill.

_awww thats so cute eds!!! <3_

Dutifully, Bill passed on the note, even shooting Richie a smile as he did so.

Waiting for Eddie's reply, Richie started to actually answer the questions for himself, making fairly easy work of the first question before a booming voice interrupted him.

“Passing notes in my lesson, Kaspbrak?”

Richie's head shot up to look at Mr Price, who was stood between Bill and Eddie's desks, holding up a small piece of paper. He looked at Eddie, who was sat low in his chair, his face scrunched with worry.

“Nothing to say? Well how about you read out what you were trying to tell Mr Denbrough?” Richie winced as Eddie went pale, his teeth worrying his bottom lip, “No? Well how about I read it for you?”

A cool sort of dread filled Richie as he watched Mr Price unfold the paper. He had no clue what it might say, what it might show.

Mr Price raised a single eyebrow, lifting his free hand to create air quotes, “'You're pretty cute.' With a heart.” A few nervous snickers went around the class as Eddie's face flushed a hot red, and Richie clenched his fist as he resisted the urge to go to him. Or maybe to punch Mr Price. “Well, what do you have to say for yourself, Mr Kaspbrak? Or maybe you have something you'd rather say to Mr Denbrough?”

Bill himself looked uncomfortable, catching Richie's eye for just a moment before looking back to the teacher.

“It was a joke.” Eddie said, his voice wavering. Richie's heart hurt for him.

Screwing up the note, Mr Price turned away from Eddie, “I don't care what you do in your free time Mr Kaspbrak, but I suggest you find your way to the Principle's office. And perhaps you should join him, Mr Denbrough.” It wasn't a question.

Richie watched helplessly as Eddie and Bill got up, packing their bags and heading for the door. Just before he left, Eddie locked eyes with him. For a moment, time seemed to be drawn out, stretched to its limits. Eddie held his gaze, eyes filled with an anxiety that was underpinned by his own brand of fury. It almost made Richie smile.

But then Eddie raised his shoulder in a half shrug and was gone from the classroom.

Sighing, Richie looked back to the work on the board, realising that Bill and Eddie would probably want to copy his notes.

_Click!_

…

“Wait, so Eddie and Bill got caught and you didn't?” Stan gave Richie a look of disbelief, which he responded to by leaning back in his chair, hands out with his palms facing up.

He shot Stan a winning grin, “What can I say, I'm a man of great discretion.”

Beverly snorted, covering her mouth a little, “Sorry Rich, but you? Discrete?”

“I can be discrete!” He looked around the lunch table they were sat at for support but even Ben shook his head, offering only a shrug in apology, “Betrayed! By my only friends! If Eddie and Bill were here, they'd be on my side.”

“On your side for what?” Richie almost jumped out of his skin as Eddie's voice appeared just behind his right shoulder. He twisted in his seat, beaming at the sight of Eddie and Bill.

Scooting up to give more space for Eddie to sit down, Richie told them, “I'm being bullied. They don't think I can be discrete.”

“Well you are tuh-talking quite loud.” Bill said, a twinkle in his eye as he took his seat between Ben and Stan.

Richie clutched at his heart, turning to Eddie, “C'mon Eds, don't do me dirty like this.”

He watched Eddie look to the other Losers, his eyes taking on a similar glint to Bill's, “I dunno Richie, you did get me and Bill in trouble...”

The rest of the table let out _ooooo_'s as Richie spluttered, his ears going slightly red with outrage, “You were the one who started passing notes! I can't believe my own Spaghetti would throw me out to the wolves.”

The rest of the table laughed and Eddie grinned, face flushed and only a little bit sheepish as he looked at Richie.

Richie felt he could swoon.

“What was that about anyway?” Bill suddenly interjected, “That nuh-note.”

The redness of Eddie's face spread to his ears, “Like I said, it was just a dumb joke.”

“What did it say Bill?” Bev looked with inquisitive eyes.

Richie decided to interject before things could escalate too quickly, “It was just Eddie professing his undying love to me,” Eddie jabbed him in the side with his elbow so Richie threw an arm around him, tugging him close, “He just embarrassed that I turned him down; there's barely room in my bed for one Kaspbrak.”

To pressed an exaggerated kiss to Eddie's cheek as he squirmed out of his grasp, satisfied with the table's laughter. He always tried to get in the first joke about him and Eddie, finding that it was easier to hide that way, to go on the offensive instead of the defensive.

_How's that for not discrete?_

But he still felt eyes watching him and turned to see Bill, a look of intense concentration on his face. After only a moment, he snapped out of it, smiling gently at not him, Richie realised, but Eddie.

Richie hooked his ankle around Eddie's under the table and wondered if the boy had done some covering up of his own before arriving to lunch.

\---

“So when are you going to ask Eddie out?”

Richie almost choked on his lung-full of smoke at the question, thumping his chest as he cleared his throat. He looked at Beverly, who was looking at him expectantly, unaffected by his almost-death, “Jeez Bev, give a man some warning.”

She smiled, although Richie felt it was more of a smirk than anything, “Sorry Rich. But don't avoid the question.”

He looked away, her gaze too piercing for him to take. He faced out over the quarry from their perch at the top, legs dangling over the edge, “I dunno why you're so stuck on this Bevs, what makes you think I want to date our darling Eds?”

She hummed, a clearly sarcastic sound of mock thought, “Hmmm, maybe you staring at him all the time, bringing him up all the time, touching him all the time. And you just called him _darling_.”

“Okay. One, I stare at him a normal amount. Two, you're the one who brought him up. Three, I touch everyone,” He threw in a wink, figuring it made him seem less like he was lying, “And that was clearly a joke.”

He leant back, aiming for nonchalance. He knew that Beverly probably wouldn't buy it but he still tried to sell it.

He glanced at her, finding her eyes already on him, “Also, who said I even like boys Bevvy?”

She snorted and he felt him stomach clench just a little bit. He knew that Beverly was one of his closest friends, of course she would notice things, but he still felt a pool of dread at the thought of everyone knowing, the thought of it being obvious. He and Eddie both agreed that they should keep _them_ a secret, neither particularly excited about the idea of an extra target being placed on each others backs.

He was pulled from his worry by Beverly tapping his knee, “Hey, where did you go?”

Huffing, he laid back fully, flicking his cigarette off the edge of the cliff before doing so. He bit his tongue a moment, swallowing the sudden lump he found in his throat, “Is- Is it really that obvious?”

Beverly fell back to lay next to him, “That you like guys or that you like Eddie.”

He closed his eyes, “The first one.”

Richie's let out a breath as he felt Bev slide her fingers between his, squeezing hard, “It's not obvious to anyone who doesn't know you. But I _know_ you Rich. All of us do. You don't have to hide from us.”

“I guess I'm just so used to it. Hiding. Pretending to be someone else.” Even as he spoke he felt a compulsion to use a voice, to retreat back and play the whole thing off as a joke.

She hummed but unlike before, this time it contained genuine thought, “We love you, Richie. No matter what.”

Unsure what to say to that, and unsure if he wanted to continue down this overly mushy avenue, Richie sat up, breaking the bubble they had created, “You're turn now, Ms Marsh. Let's talk about your crush.”

“Oh, so you admit that Eddie's a crush?” She teased, thankfully allowing him to let their conversation go as she too sat up.

He shook his head, “No comment. But you and Ben on the other hand~” He tailed off suggestively.

She flipped her short hair, the picture of nonchalance that Richie had strived (and failed) to achieve, “He might have asked me on a date.”

“No shit!”

She smiled, something softer than usual, “We're going to get milkshakes next weekend. And then go catch a film.”

He grabbed her arm, shaking it in excitement, “Bev!”

She laughed, her head tilting back in pure joy, “Richie!”

Richie pretended to wipe a tear, “They grow up so fast. I can already hear wedding bells.”

Richie squealed as she shoved him, teetering precariously close to the edge, saved only by her grabbing his shoulder and hauling him back. They both fell to lay down again, this time with grins on their faces.

He reached out for her hand, squeezing it in a parody of only minutes before, “I'm proud of you.”

And she squeezed back, turning to look at him, “Me too. I'm so proud.”

\---

“Well good_day_ my fine lady and gentlemen!” The British-guy announced as Richie emerged through the trees and into the Barrens, where he was happy to see everyone but Eddie already gathered around. They all offered him waves and various greetings as he flopped down beside Bev, already trying to pinch the cigarette from between her fingers.

“Eddie not come down with you?” Mike asked, squinting as the early morning sun peeked though the trees to fall directly in his eyes.

Richie shook his head, “Nah, I rode by his place but he wasn't outside so I didn't wait.” He didn't mention how he'd actually spent the night, tucked up beside Eddie in his single bed and had biked home only an hour prior to change his clothes and wet his hair in lieu of washing it.

He actually thought that Eddie would already be there by the time he arrived.

“He'll be here soon.” Stan spoke with confidence, as if he had read Richie's mind.

Not too worried, Richie finally managed to steal Bev's smoke, taking an over-the-top drag as she swatted him arm.

“God Richie, bring your own for once.” She grumbled but he could tell that she didn't mind, not really.

Even so, he passed it back, kicking his legs out in front of him as he leaned back on his elbows, “So, what are we doing on this fine morning?” He tried to find a voice but none of them really stuck.

They all looked to Bill, who had already begun to speak, “We're guh-gonna work on the treehouse for a buh-buh-bit and then go swim-muh-ing when it's warmer.”

The treehouse was an idea that Ben had had during the tail-end of the summer, a second base of sorts, one less likely to bury them underground. Stan had taken to the idea particularly quickly, excited by the prospect of being up in the trees, right by the birds.

They had started construction right away, Ben leading the operation, and they were nearly done, with only the roof left partially incomplete.

“I hope Eddie hurries up, I really think we could finish it today.” Ben said, excitement bleeding into his voice. Richie didn't miss the fond look Bev gave him, cigarette hanging idly between her lips.

Stan nodded along, “Yeah, then we can start furnishing it.”

“We need a sofa!” Richie chimed, “A couple space heaters, then we can totally camp out there!”

“And how do you plan on lugging a whole-ass sofa up the ladder?” Mike teased.

Richie fluttered his eyes, “Well, I sure was hopin' that a big strong man such as yurself might help out a lil' lady like me.”

Laughing, Mike threw a twig at him, “Flattery will get you nowhere, Trashmouth.”

“Spuh-Speaking of getting nowhere, maybe we should stuh-start on the treehouse. Eddie will know where to find us.” Bill stood up as he spoke and the other losers did the same, with various levels of reluctance.

As they made their way through the trees, Richie cast a forlorn look behind him.

He tried not to worry.

…

By the time lunch rolled around, the Losers found themselves sat around in a completed treehouse, eating from their pooled together food.

“Not hungry Rich?” Bev asked, holding up a punnet of grapes in offering.

He gave a half shrug, “Don't you think it's funny that Eddie's not here? He said he would be here.”

The others all nodded, Ben chiming in, “Maybe his mom had one of her outbursts.”

“Or maybe he had a run-in with Bowers.” Stan muttered before taking a bite of his sandwich.

Richie felt a sort of pain seize his stomach, “Why would you say that Stan?”

Stan looked up at Richie, almost surprised, “Sorry, I'm just throwing out ideas. I'm sure he's fine.”

Despite his claim, Stan suddenly looked uneasy. Glancing around, Richie saw that all the losers looked similarly worried.

“We should look for him.” Bill stated with conviction and, with practically not hesitation, they all started packing up the food and clambering down the ladder.

“Let's go in pairs, we'll each check a different area of the town and meet back here in an hour.” They all nodded along to Mike's plan, quickly splitting off after a brief discussion.

Richie found himself paired with Mike, hurrying towards the pharmacy on Richie's insistence that they could at least ask Mr Keene when he last saw Eddie.

“Richie, calm down. I'm sure he's alright,” Mike called out and Richie was surprised to see that he was a few paces behind. He forced himself to slow down, Mike falling into step beside him, “How come you're so worried? Do you really think it's something bad?”

Richie sighed, a long drawn out sound that shook just a little, “I dunno man. I just dunno what would have kept him. He was perfectly fine this morning.”

He bit his tongue almost as soon as he finished speaking, wincing slightly as Mike said, “Wait, you saw Eddie this morning?”

He forced a laugh, “Yeah, I told you guys, I stopped by his house.”

“I thought he wasn't outside though?” Mike's questioning eyes made Richie droop slightly.

“Alright, alright. I stayed round his last night. He was fine when we woke up and I only left like an hour before I got to the Barrens.” He kicked at a stone that wasn't there, “That's why I'm worried. He _said_ he was gonna be there.”

Mike hummed, putting his arm around Richie in a half-hug, “We'll find him. I bet Mrs Kaspbrak just got him to run some errands for her.”

Richie nodded, leaning into Mike for a moment, “Thanks, Mikey.”

The two reached the pharmacy after a few more minutes of walking and Richie resisted the urge to crash through the door, instead opting to pull it open normally. He stepped through the door, Mike right on his heels and both of them stopping in their tracks when they looked up to the counter.

Sonia Kaspbrak.

And, more importantly, wrist held tight in her hand, Eddie.

“I'm telling you, my boy has been _attacked!_ Look at his neck!” Sonia's voice was shrill in the otherwise deserted store, “He needs treatment!”

From where he stood, Richie could see that the back of Eddie's neck was beet-red. He could also see how he tugged his arm, trying in vain to pull free from his mother's grasp.

“I don't know what to tell you Mrs Kaspbrak, if the doctor didn't prescribe anything-” Mr Keene was cut off.

“The doctor didn't know what he was talking about! He tried to suggest that it was-” She paused, leaning over the counter and dropping her voice in disgust, “He said it was a _hickey_. But my Eddie-bear would _never_ let anyone do that, he too fragile.”

Richie felt _something_ well up in his chest, unsure if it was mirth or horror. He suddenly knew exactly what Sonia was talking about, his mind flashing through the events of the previous night. He looked beside him at Mike, who looked back with wide eyes that practically shouted _'What the fuck is happening right now?!'_

Eddie finally spoke, the first time since Richie and Mike had entered, seemingly unnoticed, “Mommy, I told you it's nothing.”

She turned to him, petting at him like he was a small child, or maybe a dog, “Nonsense honey, you're clearly sick. You might be having an allergic reaction, you have so many allergies darling.”

Richie felt rooted to the spot, bound to watch the scene play out.

“No I don't. Mom, you know the allergies aren't real.” Eddie cringed away from Sonia, turning just enough to lock eyes with Richie. His face fell slack with shock for a moment.

Richie lifted a hand in a feeble wave just as Sonia followed her son's gaze to see them too.

“Hello, Mrs Kaspbrak,” Mike said, starting to walk towards the counter, Richie hastening to follow, “We just came to find Eddie, we were meant to all hang out today.”

Sonia looked at Mike like she's never seen him before. Richie almost smiled at how Mr Keene slumped back behind the counter, clearly relieved to have been freed of Sonia's wrath for the moment.

“Eddie's sick, he can't come out and play today.”

Richie laughed out loud, “I'm sorry, _'can't come out and play'_? He's 18 Mrs K, not 8.” Sonia only glowered but Eddie showed the hint of a smile, which was enough for Richie.

Mike put on his politest smile, by now having walked to stand right in front of Sonia, standing a few inches taller, “We'd really love if he could be allowed to come hang out. We all really miss him.”

Her face squeezed with discomfort, Sonia stared at Mike in a long silence that was only broken by Eddie, “Mom, can you please let go of my arm?”

She finally relinquished her grasp and Richie was disgusted to see small indentations on Eddie's arm from her nails. Eddie almost immediately stepped away from her, towards Mike and Richie, the two boys immediately moving to put Eddie behind them, closer to the door.

“Eddie-bear? Aren't you going to say goodbye?” Sonia's voice warbled but Richie was almost entirely certain that it was put on, just another sick tactic to pull Eddie back in.

They paused in their retreat, Richie and Mike looking to Eddie. He could see the tension in his jaw, the quiver in his clenched fist. He resisted the urge to massage the tightness out of Eddie's shoulders.

“No, Ma.” He said simply, pushing his way out of the store, Richie and Mike rushing to follow, catching up to walk next to him a few paces outside.

“Yowza Eds!” Richie exclaimed, throwing an arm around his shoulders, rubbing his thumb in gentle circles, “You showed her!”

Eddie smiled like he was trying to hide it, “Thanks for coming to save me. I thought I'd be there forever.”

“Do you really have a hickey?” Richie let his arm fall away as Eddie turned back to look at Mike, his face flushed.

“So what if I do?” Eddie tried to sound sure of himself but Richie could hear the undertone of worry- he was sure Mike heard it too.

Mike just grinned, “Then we wanna know who it was! Eddie, you've been holding out on us!”

A coy smile slipping onto his face, Richie bumped Eddie's arm in a deliberate way, “Yeah Eds, who's the lucky gal?”

“Fuck off.” Eddie muttered, crossing his arms.

Richie couldn't help but to pinch at his cheek, “You're so cute! Cute, cute, cute!” And Eddie instantly started whining, pushing Richie's face away, skewing his glasses.

“Hey Rich, didn't you stay at Eddie's last night?” The pointed question pulled them both out of the squabble and this time Richie joined Eddie in turning red.

He stepped closer to Mike, putting on a charming smile, “Why, what are you implying Michael?”

He held up his hands, “I just thought you might have noticed something like this last night.” He gestured to Eddie's neck for emphasis, Eddie himself trying in vein to tug his shirt collar up to cover the incriminating mark.

Richie relaxed slightly. He had noticed it last night alright, Eddie laid pliant on the bed beneath him as he kissed his way down from his mouth, along his jaw, pausing at his neck to lavish on his pulse point, Eddie biting on his own arm to keep quiet, Richie's hand reaching down to-

“Can we stop!?” Eddie jabbed him in the side and Richie wondered how much of this thoughts he wore on his face, “It was nothing serious, can we drop it?”

Mike gave him an apologetic smile, “Sorry Eddie. Of course we can drop it. Right Richie?” And Richie agreed, maybe a little too eagerly to not seem suspicious, although if Mike thought so he didn't call him up on it.

“And um...” Eddie wrung his fingers together, “Don't tell the others?” And Mike just pulled off his jumper, holding it out to Eddie.

“Of course. But you might need to cover it up.”

And while Richie wished Eddie was wearing _his_ oversized jumper, he thought he looked cute all the same.

\---

“We're gonna get _caught_.” Richie's voice wavered suggestively as Eddie pulled the music room door closed. The smaller boy turned to him then and Richie felt a shiver run up his spine as he approached, crowding him into the corner.

Eddie pushed up onto his toes, one hand on Richie's chest and the other hidden in his back pocket, “It's your fault if we do. I mean new jeans... Give a man some warning.” His breath ghosted over Richie's ear and his fingers dug into soft skin, drawing out whine.

“Eds, you're killing me here.” And Eddie finally pressed up to find his lips, kissing him languidly but with just enough bite to draw out low sounds of enjoyment from Richie. For his part, Richie pressed his hands up Eddie's back, under his shirt to dig his nails just slightly into his skin. “If I'd... have known... all it would take... was some... new jeans...” He let the thought trail away, finding it too many words to fit between kisses.

Eddie slid his hand up to thread through the curls at the nape of Richie's neck and he started to consider the logistics of removing Eddie's shirt without breaking the kiss.

_Click!_

Like a shot, Eddie was out of Richie's grasp, stumbling to the other side of the small room as the door opened and light flooded in. Blinking behind his glasses, Richie stared at doorway and was almost relieved to see Ben, stood with a pair of drumsticks in his hand.

“Oh! What are you guys doing here?” Ben looked between Richie and Eddie with furrowed brows for a moment and Richie winced as his confusion morphed into shock as he took in their appearance. “Oh my god, were you guys making out?”

“No!”

“Yes!”

Richie stared at Eddie, trying to shout with his eyes.

_Why did you say yes!?_

But Eddie looked only at Ben, his expression calm despite his still slightly hiked up shirt as his kiss-swollen lips, “Yeah, we were making out. But trust me, it's not what you think.”

Ben went back to being confused and Richie felt he agreed with that because what part of making out isn't exactly what you think? “Eddie,” Ben started, “I don't-”

“We were making out,” Richie watched as he stepped a little closer to Ben and dropped his voice, like he was pretending to tell a secret, “Richie's worried that he's a bad kisser.”

Immediately Richie went red, a protest dying on his lips as both Ben and Eddie looked at him, Ben with a shocked pity and Eddie with a quiet desperation. _Damn it._ “Yeah, just don't, like, broadcast it, alright?”

Ben nodded, “Of course! It's nothing to be ashamed of, everyone's bad at first! I mean, if you need any advice...” And he looked so sincere that Richie smiled, despite the situation.

“Thanks Ben, you're the man. Eddie and I better be going though, we don't want to intrude on your drumming time any longer.” Richie clapped Ben on the shoulder before grabbing Eddie's arm and pulling him swiftly from the music room, barely giving Ben the chance to say goodbye. He waited until they were a good distance from the room before looking at Eddie.

He raised an eyebrow, “Kissing practice? That was the best excuse you could think of?”

Eddie crossed his arms defensively, “I had to say something! I panicked, it was the first thing I could think of!”

Pouting, Richie reached out, uncrossing Eddie's arms, “So you pin me up against a wall, kiss me like you're drowning and your first thought is that I'm bad at kissing?”

Richie let a smile slip back onto his face as Eddie rolled his eyes, “If I tell you you're a good kisser will you forgive me?”

“I don't know, maybe you're right,” Richie checked that the corridor was truly empty before leaning in close to Eddie's ear, “I might need some more lessons.”

And he considered the stutter in Eddie's breath a win.

\---

Richie let out a puff of air as he jumped up, arms high above his head to grab onto the tree branch. Securing his hands, he hauled his legs up, kicking his feet against the trunk for leverage. Once securely on the lower bough of the tree, he made short work of scaling the rest of the branches, reaching his target branch, the one that came within range of a certain window. Legs dangling either side, he scooted forward until he was close enough to _tap, tap, tap_ on the glass.

He listened for a moment and swore he could hear shuffling, yet no-one came to the window. He shifted closer, wobbling for a precarious second before finding his balance. Rapping his knuckles rhythmically on the window, he called out softly, “Eddie, honey! It's rather chilly out here so if you could be a darling and let me in, that would be marvellous!” 

Richie was almost ready to give up hope when the curtain was suddenly thrown open, revealing Eddie in all his 5'6” glory.

“Hey babe!” He greeted cheerfully, his face splitting into an easy grin, which fell just slightly when Eddie didn't reciprocate it. Richie squinted in confusion as Eddie stared at him with wide eyes that kept darting off to the side. Following his gaze, Richie looked behind him to the bed, almost jolting out of the tree when he realised that there was a person in it.

Perhaps the worst person it could possibly be.

Stan.

Because, while the other Losers could be easily convinced that this was just Richie being Richie, Stan was a cold, hard cynic, a guy who could cut through the bullshit like a hot knife through butter. And he was already staring at Richie, reading him like a book.

Finally, and thankfully, Eddie opened the window and Richie scrambled inside, “Hey Staniel, didn't expect you to be here!”

Stan raised an eyebrow, his face a mask. Richie laughed nervously.

“Stan and I have a project, he came over to work on it. We were talking about it at lunch.” Eddie gave him a pointed look and, okay, maybe Richie missed some hidden clue that he wasn't meant to sneak over tonight but Eddie should definitely know by now that he doesn't have the attention span for secret messages, especially not at lunch.

But Richie nodded, feigning remembrance, “Well if that's the case, I'll leave you two to it.” And he stepped back towards the still open window, placing a hand on the windowsill and thanking any god that might be listening that Stan hadn't decided to interrogate him.

“What are you doing here Richie?”

Wincing, Richie looked out of the open window, wondering if he could make a break for it, 15 foot drop be dammed. Instead he turned back to look at Stan, a grin plastered on his face, “Well you see Stan, I actually dropped by the wrong window. I always forget which one's Mrs K.”

“Richie!” Eddie protested, jabbing at him from where he was still stood a couple of feet away.

Stan just gave him a withering look, clearly unimpressed.

“Okay, is it not just enough for me to want to see my Eddie Spaghetti?” To emphasise the point, he threw his arm around Eddie, pulling him to his side. Eddie squirmed but Richie was pretty sure it was just for show.

Still, Stan didn't look satisfied with his answer, pinning the pair with his eyes from his reclined position on the bed, “And do you regularly call Eddie 'babe'?” He said, making air quoted with his fingers.

“He calls me a lot of dumb nicknames.” Eddie said quickly.

Richie fake-gasped, clutching a hand to his chest, “They aren't dumb, Eds! They're all said with love! And what's with the interrogation Stan, can't a man miss his best friend?”

“Who you saw like 2 hours ago?” Stan shot back, not missing a beat.

Richie rolled his head back, groaning in frustration, “Jeez Stan, why are you making such a big deal out of nothing! What do you want me to say? That I'm Eddie's secret boyfriend or something!” Richie pointedly did _not_ look at Eddie, focusing his attention on trying to out-stare Stan.

With a small smile, Stan stood up from the bed, stretching up and allowing his back to pop, “Nah, I don't really care,. Richie watched him gather his books and head for the door. He paused with his hand on the doorknob, looking back over his shoulder with a grin, “It's just fun to watch you squirm. See you tomorrow, Eddie!” And with that he left, the door clicking softly behind him.

Eddie waited all of a second before flopping onto the bed, Richie's eyes following the motion, “Christ, Richie!”

Following his lead, Richie moved to the bed, curling up next to Eddie, unable to resist reaching out a hand to rub comfortingly up his arm, “How was I meant to know Stan would be here?”

“We were talking about it at lunch.” Eddie finally looked at Richie, who couldn't help but smile, moving his hand to sooth at the small lines of worry between his eyes.

“Eds, you know I was talking to Bill about that writing competition at lunch,” He ran his thumb over Eddie's cheek, “I can't always have _all_ of my attention on you.”

Finally smiling, Eddie reached up, stealing Richie's hand away from his face to play with his fingers, delighting Richie as he shuffled closer, “I know, I'm sorry. I should have made sure you knew.”

Richie shifted forwards, just close enough to brush his lips against Eddie's forehead. The smaller boy responded by tucking his head under Richie's chin, releasing his fingers to wrap his arms around him.

“'M just scared.” Richie felt him mumble against his skin.

“Of people finding out?”

Eddie hummed, a sound that was neither a yes or no. Richie ran his hand up and down Eddie's back, giving him the time to reply.

“I just don't want you to get hurt,” He spoke so softly that Richie almost couldn't hear, “The bullies are already so bad...”

Pressing a kiss to the top of his head, Richie pulled back, just enough to look at Eddie, “Hey,” He smiled, something soft that he reserved for only one person, “They can't touch us. Not here.”

Richie let his eyes fall shut as Eddie leaned up to carefully capture his lips, and they spent the rest of the evening in a similar way, wrapped up in each other, sharing gentle kisses and soft exchanges. Richie even cut down on the jokes, finding himself happy enough to get lost in the quiet.

As they were both starting to drift, sleep becoming a steadily more tempting seductress, Eddie whispered one more thought out to the darkness.

“We should tell the Losers soon.”

…

“Okay.”

\---

“Hey Eds, you falling asleep?”

“'M not.” Richie smiled gently at Eddie, the smaller boy leaned fully against his side in the dark room, Richie himself curled into the corner of Bill's sofa. 

The rest of the Losers were spread around the room, Stan, Bill, and Mike laid out on a mattress that had been dragged downstairs and Beverly sprawled over Ben's lap on the chair. They were all mostly focused on the films playing on the tv, Harrison Ford's voice playing out of its tinny speakers.

But Richie was far more interested in Eddie who, despite his claims, had spent most of the movie dipping in and out of consciousness, his cheek smushed against Richie's chest, his eyes fluttering in his more lucid moments.

Richie leans down, his voice quiet, “You look pretty sleepy to me, baby.” He glanced around surreptitiously but no-one seemed to be paying them any mind.

“'M awake...” With seeming great effort, Eddie sat up, still close to Richie but lifting his head to blink in an adorable way that made Richie's chest ache. 

“You know, we're only on the second film. You sure you're gonna make it?” Eddie bumped him with his shoulder but the action was lazy.

Leaning his head against the back of the sofa, Eddie closed his eyes and for a moment Richie was sure he had slipped back into sleep. 

“I need coffee.” He blinked his eyes back open, turning them imploringly on Richie, who let out a put-upon groan.

Stretching his arms above his head, Richie made to stand but Eddie tugged him back by his shirt, tilting his head up and pressing a light kiss to his lips, the gesture making Richie's heart flip.

The room was enveloped in a sudden silence and Richie turned away from Eddie to see that the film had been paused, and his stomach flipped for a different reason when he saw five pairs of eyes, all trained on him and Eddie.

“Did... Did you just kiss?” Bill's eyes were wide, the light of the television making them seem almost glassy.

Richie felt Eddie grip his wrist.

“You definitely just kissed.” Stan said, his own eyes narrowed in suspicion.

Richie swallowed. He wetted his lips with his tongue, “We, uhh...”

“They're just practising.” Ben chimed from the chair and Richie almost laughed as everyone's eyes swivelled to him instead.

Beverly twisted him his lap, “Babe, _what?_”

“They said that they practise kissing with each other because- Umm, because... Because...” He steadily turned more red and Richie felt a pang as he realised the boy was trying to cover for him. 

From beside him, Eddie stood up, all signs of fatigue gone from his body. He used his grip on Richie's wrist to haul him up too before sliding his hand down to thread their fingers. He took in a deep breath.

“Richie and I are dating. We have been dating since August but we both decided to keep it a secret to stop any bullies finding out. We were going to tell you but, uh...” Eddie trailed off, his rapid mouth slowing down as he glanced up at Richie.

“We thought if more people knew, Bowers would be more likely to find out.” Richie picked it up, gripping Eddie's hand tightly, his socked feet fidgeting on the carpet. He looked out at his five closest friends in the world, his family, knowing (or at least fiercely hoping) that they would be fine.

“But... That's months...” Mike finally broke the silence, his brow drawn in, “You kept it secret that whole time?”

Eddie nodded as Stan snorted, “Wow Trashmouth, I didn't know you had it in you.”

Richie gave out a shout as a cushion hit him in the side of the head, knocking his glasses, “I can't believe you didn't tell us!” Beverly exclaimed, launching another cushion that smacked into Eddie.

“Hey!” Eddie grabbed the cushion off the floor, lobbing it back at her but succeeding in hitting Ben instead.

Richie grinned, already feeling a tension easing out of him, “Aww, my knight in shining armour, defending my honour!”

A sly smile on his face, Eddie pulled Richie back to sit on the sofa, “I was defending my own honour. You don't have any honour.”

Gasping, Richie looked to the rest of the Losers, “Burnt! Burnt by my own Spaghetti!” But he found himself laughing, his happiness only growing as Eddie fixed his wonky glasses.

Half expecting the Losers to launch into an interrogation, Richie was surprised when Bill lifted the remote, un-pausing the film. For a while they fell back into silence, Eddie attaching himself back to Richie's side, Richie's arm around his waist, his hand pressed against his waist under his shirt.

The silence lasted almost half an hour, the film in the final ten minutes when Ben's voice broke the quiet.

“I can't believe I thought you guys were practising kissing.”

Everyone burst out laughing but, to Richie, Eddie's little giggles were the sweetest of them all.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote all these in a completely different order so sorry if there's any continuity errors lmao  
Thanks for reading


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